How To Save A Drowning Man
by ilovetvalot
Summary: After a close call in the field, Hotch reacts. Can he overcome his demons to act on his feelings for Emily. Can be read as a standalone, but is designed to follow the oneshot "The Intricacies of Love".


**_A/N - This oneshot may be read as a standalone, but is actually designed to follow "The Intricacies of Love". Please let me know if you'd like to see more of this. As ever, I don't own Criminal Minds._**

**HOW TO SAVE A DROWNING MAN**

The case there in New Mexico ended in a breath. In a heartbeat. And in the flash of Aaron Hotchner's Glock being fired three times in quick succession.

Their unsub had decided going gently into the night was too easy an option, something he simply couldn't face. Instead, he'd chosen to take as many people as he could. And one of those people had been Emily Prentiss. Hence, the three bullets in quick succession.

Now, leaning against the concrete wall in the alley, Aaron Hotchner struggled to regulate his breathing and still his trembling hands. So close. So very, very close.

Caught up in reliving those final moments inside the building behind him, it took him a full thirty seconds to realize David Rossi was in his face, frantically calling his name. Forcing his haunted eyes to meet the elder profiler's, he whispered harshly, "Prentiss? How is she?"

"She's fine," Dave said slowly, measuring the words of the man standing in front of him propped against the dirty wall in the narrow alley. "Aaron, really, she'd fine. Barely even a graze," he said steadily, willing his former protégée to hear the words he was saying. "It won't even need stitches. She was looking for you."

"No," Aaron said hoarsely. "Not yet," he shook his head.

Seeing the desperate look in the younger man's eyes, Rossi understood. Aaron Hotchner was not in control yet. And for a man that prided himself on his steel core, that was a big deal. "Okay, Aaron, okay. I'll head her off."

"Too close, Dave," Aaron whispered, staring into space. "Way too fucking close," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block out the image of that man pointing the gun at Emily.

"A word of advice from a man that's been where you are, Hotch," Rossi said carefully. "Tell her how you feel."

One word…he could only say one word. "Can't," he bit out, straining to hear Dave above the roar in his ears.

"Bullshit," Dave retorted, unwilling to give the man in front of him any slack. "That's the fear talking." Pausing to look at Hotch's clenched jaw and closed eyes, Dave said quietly, "You're no coward, Aaron. Tell her."

God, if he only knew. Licking his lips, Aaron ordered, "Go inside. Handle the scene, Dave. I'll be back in a minute.

And with a terse nod, the older man was gone and Aaron was alone. Again. At least that he was familiar with. He could stand to face the terror when there were no witnesses. Shit, first Foyet and his kid. Now, Emily and a fucking psychotic unsub. Why the fuck was God determined to attempt to take everything he cared about? Hadn't he tried to be a good man? To make the right choices? Damn it, he had to shake it off. People were depending on him. His team was depending on him.

Pushing away from the wall, he paced the length of the narrow alley for a few minutes, regaining that control he needed so much. The control was a shield, protecting him from others, setting him apart. Without the control, they'd see the coward within. And he'd do almost anything to prevent that.

It was dusk by the time Emily Prentiss trudged back up the sidewalk to her small hotel room. The finalities of the case had taken hours to wrap up. It was always a bitch when they killed their unsub…the paperwork alone. Sighing as she shoved the key into her lock, her thoughts traveled to their default subject…Hotch.

When he'd finally walked back through the apartment door at the crime scene a full twenty minutes after he'd stumbled out of it, he'd been distant, his cold impersonal mask firmly affixed on his handsome face. She'd tried to approach him, to thank him. But, as usual, he'd given her a cool, clipped rebuff and redirected her toward her work. Rossi had gently urged her not to take it personally. As if she could never NOT take anything Aaron Hotchner did or did not do personally.

Walking into the small utilitarian room, Emily stared toward the tiny bathroom. She knew she needed a shower, needed to do something to try to cleanse the awfulness of this day from her soul. But she had a feeling that mere water and soap weren't going to accomplish that mission tonight. To shower or to swim?

Quickly striding into the bathroom, Emily stripped her clothes as she went and reached for the bathing suit draped over the shower rod. Donning it quickly and grabbing one of the white towels that housekeeping had conveniently replenished, she decided that a swim might be more effective at soothing her frayed nerves. And, it was much likelier she'd find Hotch outside than in her shower. And above all, she wanted to see the taciturn man again. She needed to see him.

Opening her room's door, she was met with a whoosh of comforting warm air. She hadn't realized her skin was chilled until she'd stepped back outside. Making her way quickly toward the large pool, she said a brief thank you to the Gods for hotels and their amenities as she threw her towel against the deck chair and dove into the refreshing water. And it wasn't until she'd reemerged at the surface that she realized she wasn't alone in the pool.

Jerking as it dawned on her that she wasn't alone in the pool, it took a moment to blink the water from her eyes. Vision clearing, she found a set of familiar warm dark eyes staring back at her. "Hotch?" she whispered.

"Sorry. I thought you'd take longer to get here. I'd planned to have vacated the premises by then," he muttered uneasily, beginning to wade toward the ladder.

"Wait! Why? You don't need to leave," she called softly, swimming to intercept him. This was her opportunity. She had him cornered.

Shaking his wet head, Hotch muttered, "I was just trying to…"

"Relieve some stress?" she offered softly.

"You could say that," he snorted.

Treading water, Emily nodded. "That's why I'm here, too."

"I figured as much," he said, the muscle in his jaw clenching as he watched her in the water in front of him, wet hair clinging to her face and bathing suit molded to her supple flesh. Feeling himself harden in the water, he bit the inside of his cheek. This couldn't happen. He couldn't allow this to happen. Becoming involved with one of his agents was a line he'd never crossed before. A line he never had wanted to cross before. But Emily Prentiss had changed things for him. She made him desire things he had no business thinking about. "I need to go, Prentiss," Hotch said sharply, more sharply than he'd intended.

Eyes widening at his tone, Emily cocked her head. "You know that I didn't almost get shot on purpose. It wasn't some plot to piss you off."

It was his turn to be shocked. Lifting startled eyes to hers, he stuttered, "I…I know that."

"Do you?" Emily asked quietly. "Because it seems to me that you're angry with me for a situation that I couldn't control."

"I'm not angry with you, Emily," he said softly, staring back into her soft eyes.

Relaxing marginally, Emily continued watching his granite face. "Then what? What have I done?" she asked quietly. "It's obvious that you're upset with me. Talk to me, Hotch."

"I'm not angry with you, Emily," Hotch said quickly, without thinking. "I'm angry with me."

Shaking her dark head in confusion, Emily replied, "Why?"

"We shouldn't be having this conversation," Hotch muttered, moving toward the ladder leading to his freedom again. "I'm going."

Suddenly feeling that if she allowed him out of the water, she'd lose him, Emily moved quickly, grabbing his tense arm and pulling him to face her. "Stop running!" she bit out, shocked at her own words.

"Excuse me?" Hotch replied impassively, the only sign of his emotional state, the slight narrowing of his eyes.

"Tell me why you're angry with yourself," Emily demanded, her fingers tightening on the damp skin of his arm. She tried to tell herself not to feel the well defined muscle under her fingertips…not to notice the strength contained within his body.

"Stop, Emily," Hotch ordered softly, looking at where her hand rested against his arm. "Neither of us needs to say anything right now that we could regret later."

"You think we're both not filled with enough regrets already? Maybe it's time to clear the air between us, Hotch. Maybe it's time to say the things that have been left unsaid too long already."

"Shut up, Emily," Hotch hissed under his breath, his muscles tensing.

"No," she shot back simply. "I'm tired of choking on my emotions. I've done it for years."

"You aren't the only one," he muttered.

"Really? Then aren't you tired of it yet?" Emily asked with a raised brow. "Aren't you worn out from wondering about the "mights" and "coulds" in our lives? I am," she frowned. "I'm tired of alternately wondering if you hate me, are indifferent to me, or actually, perhaps, feel something for me."

"Let it go, Emily," Hotch barked.

"How can I let something go that I've never even had?" Emily snapped, moving closer to him in the water.

"Stop talking," Hotch ground out, watching the water around him rock as she moved closer to him.

"Why, Aaron? Is what I'm saying becoming a little too real for you?" Emily asked curiously. "You know, they say that I'm the Ice Queen in our unit, but I wonder if people have ever gotten past their fear to really study you. You don't let anything penetrate, do you? You don't allow yourself to feel anything anymore beyond the love you have for your child."

"Damn you, Emily!" Hotch hissed under his breath. "Just stop."

"Why? Is something I'm saying finally piercing that thick wall you've built around yourself?" Emily asked bitterly.

"Why are you doing this?" Hotch bit out.

"Because I care! Because I've spent valuable time caring! Because you deserve more than this self-imposed exile you've inflicted on yourself!" Emily said, her words flying from her mouth without conscious thought.

The decision he made next wasn't made rationally. It was made in self defense. He couldn't listen to any more. Couldn't listen while she laid his soul bare, peeling back his protective layers until he was naked…exposed. Jerking her soft body against him and covering her mouth with his, he only wanted to silence her. Because she was right. Because she KNEW him. She knew the REAL him and it terrified him to his core. Because if she really knew him, knew his secrets, she could hurt him. Hurt him as much as anyone before her.

Feeling her mouth open under his, he plundered the dark recesses of her mouth, taking what she offered him as she clung to his neck, pressing her body against his. Groaning against her mouth, he tightened his hold on her lean body, pulling her closer, trying to absorb her. For the first time in more time than he cared to remember, he felt warm. The chill in his body was fading, being replaced by her warmth…her light.

Pushing her away from him abruptly, he met her surprised eyes. "That…" he began hoarsely, "should NEVER have happened."

"But it DID," Emily said insistently.

"You don't get it, do you, Emily?" Hotch whispered softly, hands clenching at his sides. "Any one that I care about eventually gets hurt, whether I mean it to happen or not. Ask Haley. Ask Jack. I don't want you to be the latest in a long line of people that I've hurt. Can't you see that?"

"That's MY decision," Emily insisted with narrowed eyes. "And you're trying to take the coward's way out, Aaron," she accused softly.

"Maybe that's because that's exactly what I AM," Hotch retorted angrily.

Laughing, Emily shook her head at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me here? You can't honestly believe that about yourself."

Staring at her, Emily saw the truth in his eyes. That insanity was exactly what Aaron Hotchner believed about himself. Shaking her head as she looked at him, Emily said slowly, "You're no coward, Aaron. But sooner or later, you're going to have to face your fears. It's up to you whether or not you face them alone."

"You don't know what you're asking for," Hotch said, his mind spinning as he watched her face.

"I'm asking you to trust me enough to let me in. You trust me with your life in the field. Trust me in this, too," Emily urged softly.

"It isn't that simple," Hotch averred, looking away as he felt her soft hand surround his underneath the water.

"It isn't that difficult either," Emily whispered. "All you have to do is take a chance."

"I don't like my odds," Hotch mumbled, turning his hand to lace his fingers with hers.

"I always bet on the underdog," Emily shrugged. "And, not to brag," she murmured with a slight smile, "but I'm usually right."

"You make me want to take the risk, Emily. But I've never been a betting man," Hotch murmured, trailing a gentle finger down her jaw line.

"Then you let me place the wagers," Emily advised, capturing his hand and pressing it against her face. "I won't let you down."

Smiling grimly, Hotch shook his head. "I've never been worried that YOU would be the one to let ME down, Emily. It's rather the opposite."

"You've never let me down, Aaron. And I don't think you're going to start now. You're too determined to allow yourself to fail."

"So much confidence in me," he muttered, sighing as she moved closer, settling her body against his as he leaned against the side of the pool.

"It's well founded," Emily shrugged against him.

Smiling against her hair, he hoped she was right. The last thing on earth he wanted to do was hurt somebody else he cared about. "It's going to be complicated," he warned gently, resting his chin on her head.

"Good thing that I'm so good at complicated," Emily muttered against his chest. Raising her head to stare into eyes that had the vague light of hope in them, she promised, "It'll be worth it, Aaron."

"For the first time, I think I believe that," he whispered before covering her mouth in a gentle kiss again.

**_FINIS_**


End file.
